


Baby, I Loved You

by ElwritesFanworks



Category: Slither (2006)
Genre: Affection, Alien Biology, Alien Invasion, Alien Sex, Alternate Ending, Angst, Angst and Porn, Awkward Conversations, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Canon Het Relationship, Canon-Typical Grossness, Canonical Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Gunshot Wounds, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, Loss, Love, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Marriage, Married Couple, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Sad, Semi-Public Sex, Slime, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love, good guy!Grant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElwritesFanworks/pseuds/ElwritesFanworks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate ending to Slither. Not really a fix-it, since all the canon character deaths happen, but they happen differently. And there's tentacle porn first. And lots and lots of love and angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I Loved You

**Author's Note:**

> There are not enough people who ship Starla/Grant
> 
> There are also not enough synonyms for tentacle

* * *

It was worse than any nightmare she’d ever had. Starla Grant shivered with revulsion and fear as she searched her husband’s monstrous face for some trace of his former humanity. She nearly gagged when she felt one of his oozing tentacles leave a slime trail over her bare calves. She tried to hide her shudder, but she flinched enough that he noticed and growled threateningly as he slid his limbs around her and squeezed her until she cried out in pain.

"You’re hurting me!" she sobbed, struggling. One of his tentacles tangled in her golden hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look at him.

She could hardly breathe, she was so scared. She could hear the semi-absorbed townsfolk jeering, could hear Bill calling her name, and she could see a raging conflict in her stricken spouse’s beastly eyes. She swallowed, a tear rolling down her cheek.

He set her down.

Starla shook with terror. Her instincts were telling her to run, but she felt like she was frozen in place.

One of Grant’s tentacles extended and stroked her face gently, brushing away the teardrop. Starla’s husband let out a low, mournful groan.

"Sturrrla, duuuuuun’t craaaaah," one of the townsfolk bellowed, writhing, half-embedded in Grant’s fleshy corpulence.

"I can’t help it - this is breaking my heart," Starla sniffed. Grant gurgled.

"Starla, get away from him!"  Kylie screamed from the window. Grant snarled and raised his tentacles to strike her.

"No!" Starla shouted. Grant hesitated, his attention back on his wife.

"Please, baby, please don’t hurt anybody else! I know you feel like you have to, but you don’t."

"Havvvve toooo," another local drawled from where she had joined with the swollen hills of sticky skin.

"No, no you don’t! I’m begging you, please, I’ll do anything!"

"Starla-!"

Starla looked over at Bill, dear Bill, saw the hurt in his eyes and answered it with shame.

"I gotta try," she whispered hoarsely. "He’s my husband."

With that, Starla took a shaky step forward - then another. Grant lifted several tentacles and wrapped them around her, drawing her in close, enveloping her, forming a cocoon of writhing, dripping warmth.

Grant couldn’t kiss her, not with his mouth sitting funny, part fangs, part human teeth. Starla couldn’t say she minded.

Rather than kiss her, Grant drew a long, thin tentacle over Starla’s closed mouth, surprising her with his gentleness. He made that sad gurgling sound again and shut his eyes.

"Grant, honey, what’s the matter?"

The eyes that blinked open in disbelief looked almost weary. Grant snorted and gestured at himself, then at Starla. He wormed a tentacle up into her hair and rubbed her scalp in the spot where he’d tugged hard. She watched, wide-eyed, as Grant drew the thin tentacle that had been stroking her mouth down to trace the strap of her nightie. It lingered by the hem, twitching slightly.

"Nothing’s wrong," Starla murmured, hoping she sounded convincing. Grant made a wet sucking noise and the tip of his roving appendage slipped under her Starla’s nightie, coiling around her breast and flicking over her nipple. The stickiness of Grant’s slime made each movement feel almost like suction, and Starla arched into the touch in spite of herself, the strap of her lingerie slipping down off her shoulder.

Another tentacle joined the first and teased her other rosy bud to firmness. She gasped in surprise at the sensation – it felt good. She’d never thought that having what felt like giant, clammy earthworms rubbing over her breasts would be anything but disgusting – to be honest, she’d never even imagined such a horrific situation could occur, yet here she was, being pleased by it.

By him, she corrected, and reached out hesitantly to stroke his gooey cheek.

One tentacle, somewhat larger than the other two, began to wriggle up the inside of her leg, pausing to tease the spot behind her knee that drove her wild. The spot that only Grant knew. Starla felt a wave of remorse hit her, and she held on to that remorse when the tentacle reached her upper thigh and she was struck by a reflexive urge to shut her legs, to keep him away from her.

She took a deep breath and widened her stance.

Grant grunted.

Starla inhaled sharply. The blunt tip of the tentacle hadn’t simply ‘pushed in’ as she expected it would – violent and animalistic. Instead it slid along her sex, dampening her curls and teasing at her folds. It nudged her lips apart and settled over her clitoris, moving with a subtlety and dexterity that shocked her as much as it pleased her. It reminded her, sharply, of the few times that Grant had ever put his mouth there, before he became a squid thing. She’d never liked it – though that it was dirty – thought it was embarrassing, especially when he told her it made him hard, or when she tasted herself in his kiss. She had never thought it was his way of showing that he loved her.

He’d never been good with words.

Now, without them, all he could offer her was the gentle touch of a lover, albeit a biologically atypical one. Realization hit her hard, simultaneous to an orgasm that surprised her at it’s suddenness – usually she was hard to pleasure, often just opting to fake it so that she could roll over and get some sleep after Grant was done.

Grant.

Dear Grant! Starla thought of how often she’d taken him for granted. How often she’d resented him. He hadn’t been a perfect husband, in some ways, but really, he’d never been unkind, not unfairly so.

He was always just so hard to understand, keeping all his feelings inside his head, where no one could get at them.

Starla felt the tentacle retreating from her groin and shook her head, reaching down to grab it firmly. Grant shuddered and stared at her, his teeth frightening, bared, sharp, deadly.

Starla did her best to relax, bit her lip, and guided the tentacle into her opening.

Grant made an inhuman noise and thrust in a little too fast, a little too rough. The prickle of fear that Starla felt in response only aroused her further and she stepped closer to him still.

“Can you lift me?” she whispered and he convulsed it what might have been a nod before she was being borne up a foot or so off the ground, supported gently by his tangled limbs. She reached out to steady herself, her hands finding purchase on his tumerous facial protrusions, and she nodded for him to continue.

She was stretched taught around his appendage – she hadn’t been penetrated in a long time by anything bigger than her own fingers in the bath when Grant wasn’t home – and his penis, which she’d once found to be unimaginably large, was slim in comparison to what was now inside her. Yet still, still Grant was gentle. Strangely, absurdly, he was gentler now than he’d ever been – almost afraid, trembling with the effort to hold himself back, to keep not just from fucking her, but from ripping her fragile human body apart in his grip.

The two stinger-like tentacles that had tried to penetrate her abdomen before were rising up to meet her – Starla eyed them warily. She didn’t trust them, their sharp ends and viscous fluid. Grant seemed to be trying very hard to control them, winding them around each other and moving up and down, almost as if –

“Oh, oh, baby, are they like your…?”

Starla blushed and reached for one of them. No sooner did her fingers touch it than Grant let out a rumbling moan and the tentacle coiled around her arm.

“I don’t want you to make me like Brenda,” Starla stated. “Do you understand?”

Grant’s head twitched yes.

Okay, Starla thought, reaching for the other tentacle gingerly. This is no worse than it ever was before, and the shape’s sort of the same. You can do this.

“I can do this,” she repeated under her breath, and brought one of the sharp tentacles up to her mouth. She covered the pointy tip with her hand, steering it away from her face and keeping her out of harm’s way, and leaned in. Somewhat disgusted, she stuck out her tongue and gave the flesh an exploratory lick.

Grant bellowed and gnashed his teeth, his eyes wide and burning with an animal lust. Starla smiled, confidence mounting.

“You like that, don’t you?”

She didn’t wait for a reply, electing instead to suck on the base of the stinger, away from the dangerous tip. Grant shuddered again beneath her and began thrusting into her with renewed enthusiasm, happy with the reciprocation.

For someone who was currently covered in ooze and rotting meat fragments, Grant tasted surprisingly clean, Starla thought mid-lick, her free hand jerking his other sex-organ off. His tentacles were beginning to leak a copious amount of slipperly opaque fluid, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Perhaps he tasted so fresh because he kept these tentacles inside him? The thought made Starla wonder if the opening they came out of was sensitive, at all.

“Lower me a little,” she moaned as he ground his blunt-ended tentacle against her g-spot with unprecedented accuracy. Grant complied and Starla reached down to palm along Grant’s ballooning abdomen. Her target was obscured by a knot of undulating appendages, so it took some time and guesswork before her fingers found the base of the dual shafts. She wiggled her hand, straining her wrist, and found access to a moist, hot orifice – the inner place the penile stingers extended from. Curious, she slipped two of her fingers into the warmth and curled them upwards.

Grant roared. His thrusting sped up, smaller limbs descending on Starla’s nipples and clit, the back of her knees, her behind. Starla, licked up and down Grant’s two dripping tentacles and fingered his opening roughly, losing some finesse in the effort to send him hurtling towards the edge.

Starla came violently, arching her back to the point of pain and screaming her throat raw, crying ‘Grant, yes, yes!’ as she hit her peak, tears and sweat streaming down her face. She felt like she was on fire, felt the aftershocks of pleasure all the way down to the tips of her toes.

The sound of her, and the sight, made Grant howl and shower Starla in pulse after pulse of thick, creamy fluid that shot out of the tips of his stingers. His grip on her slackened and she slipped a little before he gathered her up in a sticky, hot embrace.

For a few minutes, they just lay there. With her eyes shut and her head on his chest, Starla could almost pretend that things were back to normal – that when she opened her eyes she wouldn’t find mutilated townspeople or see the betrayal that would inevitably be written across Bill Pardy’s face. Cocooned completely in a living sanctuary, she felt safe for the first time in days.

One of the small, thin tentacles came up to rub over her lips again, Grant’s version of a kiss, and to stroke her hair.

“Will you stop your crusade, now? You have the town, you have me – please, let’s just be together,” Starla murmured, unsure where her acting ended and real sentiment began.  Just moments ago she’d have been repulsed to even touch the thing her husband had become, yet now she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

Grant shook his malformed head and sighed. The thin tentacle settled on Starla’s bare shoulder and traced four letters.

C A N T

“Why?” she sniffed, her lip beginning to tremble, tears blurring her eyes.

C A N T     S T O P

“But you want to – don’t you? I know you do, Grant, I know you do!”

Grant made a soft, sad sound.

I T L L       M A K E      M E

Tears were falling freely from Starla’s eyes now and she wiped at them frantically, shaking her head.

“What can I do, then? What do you want me to do?”

The tentacle traced a response.

K I L L      M E

Starla bawled, burying her face in Grant’s bulbous, bumpy neck.

“No! No, there has to be another way!”

Grant stroked her hair. They both knew there wasn’t.

Slowly, the tentacles released her and the horrified faces of Kylie and Bill came back into view. Grant set Starla down gently on the floor, patted her on the head, touched her cheek.

“Do it,” Kylie urged, tugging on Bill’s sleeve. “Now’s your chance, come on!”

Bill nodded.

“Starla, get back!”

Starla shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

“Starla, step back!” Bill repeated.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Starla sobbed, staring into Grant’s inhuman eyes. “I am so sorry.”

“Starla!”

“I’ll miss you, I really will.”

“You’re gonna get hit if you don’t move!”

Starla stepped out of the way, abandoning the touch of that slender tentacle.

“Luuuuuuuuuurrrb,” Grant gurgled, not one of his mouthpiece hosts, but the real Grant. Her Grant.

“I love y-”

_BANG._

“- ou too.”

Starla stared in horror at the hole where Grant’s head had been.  Kylie was shouting at her, but she couldn’t make sense of the words. She couldn’t make sense of anything.

She sank to her knees, shaking and weeping silently. Bill hurried to her side, pulled her up on her unsteady feet, and the three survivors made for the front door.

They didn’t speak.

They didn’t speak when Starla grabbed a photo from the wall – her wedding picture, now slightly crumpled and sticky – and clutched it in her hands like a security blanket. They didn’t speak as they torched the house, the remains of Starla’s old life. They didn’t speak as they passed the bodies of friends and loved ones and piled into the car, didn’t speak when they left the town behind them, empty of all life. They didn’t speak when they passed a billboard ad for Mr. Pibb and all, inevitably, thought of Mayor MacReady.

They were two counties over when Kylie finally broke the silence.

“What did he do to you, when you were all wrapped up in his tentacles? We couldn’t see you, or hear you – we thought you were dead!”

Starla swallowed, her mouth dry, her tongue cold and dead and heavy with things she knew she’d never say. She didn’t speak, and when Kylie’s hand slid into hers, she didn’t meet her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> additional notes:  
> \- Starla is not wearing panties in this fic, nor does she, thus, have the hairbrush weapon  
> \- Bill has not been stabbed  
> \- The grenade was not used  
> \- as to why kylie is oblivious to the fact tat Star;a is literally COVERED in cum - it is ALIEN cum, after all, so... yeah idk tbh :S


End file.
